Eleanor Coppola has lived
quite a lifetime. Being married to
Francis Ford Coppola for fifty-four years with a family as American Zoetrope
filmmaking empire, Eleanor was right there on the firing lines and trenches for
her husband’s arduous journey making Apocalypse
Now, documented in Eleanor’s award winning Hearts of Darkness: A Filmmaker’s Apocalypse. She has since watched son Roman and daughter
Sofia spread their film directing wings, arguably succeeding her husband’s
creative output. In between working
closely with Francis on a now lucrative and highly successful winery line,
Eleanor penned the memoir Notes on a Life
about her own journey beside her husband’s eclectic filmmaking career. Now reaching eighty-one years old, Mrs.
Coppola offers up her first fictional film effort as a writer-director: Paris Can Wait.
An exceedingly simple
premise, Diane Lane plays Anne, a neglected housewife married to a perpetually
preoccupied and tense Hollywood producer named Michael (Alec Baldwin) who has
been summoned to troubleshoot a Moroccan film production. Intending to reunite in Paris, Michael
enlists the help of business partner Jacques (Arnaud Viard) to transport Anne
to Paris. What follows involves an
unlikely bordering-on-affair journey of friendship, self-discovery, fine wine
and endless delicious entrees. Think of
it as a sort of HGTV: The Movie and
you’ll find some pleasure in watching wealthy people enjoying living
luxuriously.
A light-hearted romcom of
sorts, from the outset this semi-autobiographical promenading travelogue
through all of France’s high watermarks smells more than a bit like a smug vanity
project with Eleanor celebrating her fortune being married to Francis. Once the film gets going however, this
obvious Vanilla Crème Brulee while overtly schmaltzy and kind of clichéd does
wind up offering a quiet and endearing charm not felt in the movies since
Steven Spielberg’s The Terminal. What should have been easy to dismiss as opulent self-indulgence turned out to have a few unexpected life lessons and entertaining vignettes along the way.
While Alec Baldwin is sadly
overlooked here, the show mostly belongs to longtime Coppola collaborator and
friend Lane, who still exudes radiance and warmth as she approaches middle
age. Viard as Jacques is, well, your
stereotypical smooth talking “French” playboy who knows every obscure
restaurant and museum in the book. While some critics have understandably taken
umbrage with this overly romanticized caricature of the debonair and suave
Frenchman, Coppola peppers the proceedings with enough human warmth and
revelations that we accept the clichés for what they are and enjoy eating them
up anyway.
Most who have seen David
Lean’s Summertime know the terrain of
international romance with opulent scenery and tourist attractions as the backdrop,
and needless to say Paris Can Wait doesn’t
do much to differentiate itself from the pack but I doubt Mrs. Coppola cares
about that. Tired or inspired, what the
wife of one of the world’s towering cinema giants has created is a surprisingly
life affirming little ode to renewing one’s lust for life even after you think
you’ve experienced all it has to offer.
Although you can’t make a comparison between this and the still
masterful Apocalypse Now documentary,
Eleanor Coppola’s light semi-autobiographical yarn though saccharine as white
chocolate proved to be a swell time at the movies with more than a few charming
little surprises along the way.
Score:
- Andrew Kotwicki